MISTAKE
by lamatikah
Summary: So after all the confusion Head Office managed to sort them out with a nice house, an excellent school, a good neighbourhood and ten months. Part One- Roxas attempts to fit in, Axel falls in love and Kairi ruins everything. akuroku, risokai -for skitts
1. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

The incessant knocking drove him crazy. Like a parade of bulls charging at his window with more force than an angry rhino rolling down the motorway on a skateboard. His window was shaking with the commotion but it never stopped – never. Well, until after about a minute or so, but during it, Roxas went through the most excruciatingly cringing fest and if that couldn't make something seem longer than it should do, then nothing can.

His face was slowly inching towards his hands, ready to tip over so he could weep his griefs. Then the knocking stopped, though it was shortly followed by raucous laughter and the cry of, "Emo music, pfft!"

Roxas did not listen to emo music. He puffed out his chest. Damn these walls, damn them for being so thin. Damn his computer for being so close to the window, damn it. Damn his music for being emo, damn it. Roxas looked back behind his shoulder and noticed that the curtain was lifted slightly, giving the awful _beings_ outside a good view of his back. Him, hunched over, typing with incredible speed as he described in detail to TallGirl57 how his playstation was "playing up" while she typed back that it was probably just off at the plug.

Maybe they could see what he was writing! Maybe they had x-ray vision and so the fact that his back was noticeable due to a gap between curtains didn't matter because **they could see through curtains**.

Or maybe he was just being paranoid.

- - -

**disclaimer:** i don't own **nothing**, though considering that's a double negative...**  
pairing/s: **akuroku, risokai, maybe more, i didn't really think this through pairing wise**  
warning/s:** aah. too many for you to worry about

**dedication:** for skitts who is brilliant and was actually the one who showed me fanfiction and is to blame for my stupid jokes when i attempt to be funny and if it weren't for her i probably would never have the chance to be a _good_ author, srsly, i was the worst.

- - -

**MISTAKE**

**- PART ONE -  
Occasion and Outrage**

Chapter One

- - _I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings_

A lot of people believe in destiny and fate – often working together in harmony to create beautiful masterpieces. Like love for instance or a baby, a new friendship, etc. The list goes on, it probably spans the distance of the world multiplied five or six times over. However long this list may be, though, Roxas disagrees. A lot of other people say that life never ends, not even after death because things continue and people move on. Roxas would like to see these people continue and move on while they lay in coffins. Some people say that depending on what road you take, you will end up one way or you will end up the other. Roxas believes that this is true when you're driving – but that's not life, now, is it?

Roxas doesn't believe that just riding your bike up a hill will get you to your destination because your destination could be up the hill, down the road, through a dark street near the usual spot of some sinister looking gang and just past the next left.

Well, at least that was where he was living at that moment. He was sitting in the second room (or were they cupboards?) along the entrance corridor, through the not-meant-to-be grey door and in the corner by the window with the broken curtains.

He knew that at some point he would have to go and make dinner for Cid and Selphie, but he was prolonging the inevitable as long as possible. But when TallGirl57 logged off, Roxas decided that this was the sort of sign a heavily beaded and shawl'd mad-woman would take to mean that he should go boil some pasta or something. He logged off and reached down to turn the plug off. After stretching his arms and legs he rambled over to the kitchen, on the other side of the grungy hall. He noted that the carpet felt - and _smelt _- like moss.

The kitchen was just as horrid as the rest of the house, perhaps worse. The ceiling was an algae-like green colour in the corners and a sickly yellow everywhere else. The walls, once lined with deep purple wallpaper, were now covered in some slightly damp, blueish grey paper which seemed to be slowly working its way down the equally damp and grey walls. The oven was covered in sinister-looking black grime and the fridge's door was unhinged. Roxas sighed and reached for the phone instead. It was a lot easier to just order.

After the meal had arrived, Roxas laid it out in front of Cid, his father, who was staring vaguely at the television screen, as though it was not quite there. His sister, Selphie, was excitedly flicking through channel after channel, relishing in the way it flicked from one face to another, from a deep male voice to a tinny female voice. She stopped, however, when Cid barked angrily at her. He snatched a plate from table Roxas had put the food and started to eat. Selphie smiled wanly at Roxas before slowly taking a plate from the table.

Roxas stared at the left-over plate, before deciding that he wasn't all too hungry anyway.

- - -

Upstairs was no better than downstairs, but at least the bed was comfortable and all his things were in there, even if they were packed up in cardboard boxes and stuck down with sellotape.

Roxas lay on his back, staring at the faintly pink ceiling, wondering where that low dripping sound was coming from and reminiscing over what had happened in the past few days. The council had told Roxas, Selphie and Cid that their house was _needed_ by a _needy _family in more _need_ than them, so Roxas, Selphie and Cid packed up (well, Roxas shoved most of their belongings in some boxes) and were transferred to Radiant Garden, where their new house would be quite as lovely as their old. At least... they would have. But there was a mix-up in Head Office and their files were swapped with another file, which got lost on a train, was found by good civilian and handed in to the police who searched and probed it, then mailed back to Head Office, but got the wrong address and was sent to the incinery. The great conclusion to this being that instead of heading for the beautiful sights of Radiant Garden, they were now travelling towards the mangy backstreets of Twilight Town. Ten months they would have to wait, a whole ten months to sort out a couple of files.

It was, overall, a rather ridiculous adventure. Some might call it amusing. But then again, they weren't the ones who were asked whether their sister should prefer to have their orange juice drugged – so that she'd shut up and the other passengers on the plane would be able to get some rest.

Roxas sighed, turning over.

Selphie. Selphie, Selphie, Selphie. She was a darling girl, pretty too. But she wasn't quite all there. She was temperamental and hard to control. She didn't go to school, but she had a social worker. She probably had a different one – a new one – here in Twilight Town. The last one had been a disaster; he was old and wrinkly and had no idea how to control a kid like Selphie. She ran amok in every session.

He hoped the new one would be better qualified, or at least nicer. Then maybe Selphie would get along and be good. "Pfft." Wishful thinking.

He supposed Cid didn't help much, with his monosyllabic phrases and grunts of anger every now and then. Roxas never really saw Cid as a father; he had never really looked after his three children. Roxas had counted on his older brother until he moved to college and so Roxas had to make sure Cid and Selphie got their meals. It was hard and Roxas _was not OK_.

Damn that emo music.

Lying on his back, still clothed but decidedly not getting back up, Roxas fell in and out of bad dreams, always waking to find a worse one in front of him.

- - -

_Beep_

_Beep_

_Beep._

"_Heyy, Tiny! How's it goin' down there in little old Twilight Town? ...Uh huh. Uh huh. That's RIGHT! You can't answer me, 'cause you never pick up! I hope you can hear me glaring. Because I a- Sora! What do you think you're doing with that toaster? Hey, do you remember those little boys, Sora and Riku, I used to play with on holiday? Well, it turns out that they're big boys now and we go to the same college! Oh God, hang on a sec – under the sink, Riku, get him __**under the sink**__! Urgh, how many times have I told Sora that the toaster is metal and heat and metal just don't work with fingers... Anyway, call – oh, Sora, no no no, it's okay, I'll be there in a minute, sweetie – me sometime, alright? If you don't, I'll go over there myself and drag you to your telephone and you shall dial my number and you shall say "hello there, this is your brother telling you how much I..." - oh, sorry, I really have to go now. Sora ... So-"_

_Beep._

- - -

**an:** wowzers. i've made all my links funny colours AND - i don't know how - everything works properly. :3 riiight, i'd really, really, truly love some concrit for this chapter 'cause i'm self-centred like that. nahh... i'm only doing this for the PEOPLE. for the MILLIONS. for my PEOPLE. xD lordy. nirii never beta'd this chapter, so... it's not my fault if it's got ten billion mistakes. I SWEAR. whelp, i shall update next once i have finished Part One - so, watch this space and whatnot.


	2. All the King's Men

**disclaimer:** meet the owner of nothing D:**  
pairing/s:** akuroku, sorakaiririku in one nice clump.**  
warning/s:** -sigh-

- - -

**MISTAKE**

**- PART ONE -  
Occasion and Outrage**

Chapter Two

- - _All the King's Men_

Roxas stared at the milk and M&Ms in his bowl. The milk rippled slightly as Roxas breathed. He didn't feel very hungry after all; he shouldn't have poured it out. He'd leave it out for Selphie. Dropping the spoon into the bowl with a splash, Roxas yawned and got up off the seat. He grabbed the messenger bag hanging on the end of the chair and made his way out of the kitchen door, down the corridor and out the front door.

School was a half hour walk away, but this couldn't be helped because Cid couldn't drive, and even if he could, he wouldn't drive Roxas anywhere. The trams in the area never worked. And so, with heavy-lidded eyes and equally heavy-seeming feet, Roxas trundled all the way to school.

On the way, he passed trams turned on their sides, neglected trolleys down sinister looking alleys and various items of soggy clothing, obviously lost by small children – though why they would leave their socks on the street was anyone's guess. Some of the homeless littering the pavement, called to him every now and then but Roxas just ignored them. He wasn't much for feeling pity.

The school's name was St. Donald's Twinity College and was originally an adult training centre for the three surrounding districts. That was, of course, before the teachers all became fed up with teaching drunken cretins at three in the morning, so it was changed into a high school. It was now known to be home to the yobbish teen population of Twilight Town; goths, gangs and a whole manner of frightening creatures took residence. It was an old building, very old, complete with overlarge windows, looming wooden doors and gargoyles.

Sighing, Roxas took his first steps in. Sighing still, Roxas spent his first morning of St. Donald's Trinity College wandering aimlessly to his lessons, not expecting to learn anything, and then wandering aimlessly to his locker, not expecting to find any books, then wandering aimlessly to the canteen, definitely not expecting to eat anything.

Sitting at an otherwise empty, gaudy looking, plastic table, he pondered over the school and, more specifically, its student body.

There were a great number of pupils learning there – well, "learning" might not be quite the word. Perhaps, "being talked at" was a better description. There were a small number of teens who hung onto every word their teacher uttered, but Roxas guessed that these were the people who were _into_-into teachers.

...Or maybe not, as his eyes rested on a certain three students. One, slightly chubby with a kind face, another, smirking and checking out some girls across the room, the last, a brunette with a mild-tempered look about her. She was doing what looked like extra Language Arts work. Roxas knew that it wasn't homework – as he vaguely recognised her as the girl who sat next to him.

He watched the trio eat, talk and work. He noticed small things about them, like whenever the girl would smile at the kindly looking boy, he'd blush a tiny bit. Or whenever the smirking boy watched a girl from behind, the girl laughed at him. And for a tiny second he thought that she might have noticed him looking, so he bent his head down to the whole sandwich, which he had no intention of eating, on his plate, and when he looked back up, they were all back to normal.

After the lunch hour, there was supposed to be a weekly assembly with the Head. Roxas knew that there were at least three other new kids in the school but, for painfully obvious reasons, the Head chose Roxas to present to the school. Roxas, and the rest of school, realised that this was because he had been donated to the school by the council.

"...I would like you to treat Mr. Highwind with the respect and attention he deserves," the Head pulled a false smile – which was, to be honest, more like a grimace. "Mr. Highwind here lives on the council estate," Roxas resented his telling the whole school, "with his father and sister, who is-" Roxas panicked for a moment, wondering whether the teacher would tell the school of his sister's... condition "-currently not of high school age-" he breathed a sigh of incredibly relief "-though I'm sure when she is," that smile again, "she will be immediately sent to us."

It was sickly and disgusting, and Roxas felt like some sort of trophy given to the school by the _council_, either that, or some fresh meat for the predators to prey and play on.

Although he couldn't see much from where he was sat, he could imagine various students cracking their knuckles and sharpening their knives, toothpicks between their lips and tattoos (with the inscription: BULLIES 4 LIFE) across their forearms.

However, when he left the assembly hall, he noticed that it was only one group of people he should be worried about.

They were lurking round the corner, near the car park, smoking and laughing about the new charity case. He also distinctly noticed how the other kids avoided them at all costs, some even retreating back into the hall to exit through the back.

The most striking member of the group was tall, with red hair and a supercilious air about him. He was laughing at a joke he had just made. His sharp nose more pronounced as he threw his head back in mirth. Next to him, an evil looking young woman was playing with a firelighter. She was flicking it on and off, on and off, on and off, obviously enjoying herself. She looked like the sort of person who, when they were a kid, used to stick her fingers into electric sockets to scare the other kids. She had short blonde hair and could have had a pretty face. But her features were pinched and twisted, like she had spent too long smirking.

To Roxas' surprise, there was a sweet-tempered looking boy in their group too. He had light brown hair and a faraway manner, like he wasn't really with them at all – but Roxas supposed that anyone standing so close must be within their inner circle. There was also another boy, with lilac coloured hair, scowling at the girl next to him who was giggling at whatever she had written in the sketchbook she was holding.

It seemed that these were the bullies of the school, as one small, frightened looking freshman walked past and was tripped up by the girl with a pinched face. Papers, pens and books went flying everywhere. The freshman looked near tears.

Roxas jutted out his jaw and stalked towards the flustered kid. He started as though to help her pick up her stuff, but the one who tripped her up shrieked: "Don't help her!"

Roxas looked at her for a minute, then dropped back down to helping the poor child, whilst the scary girl stared at them with mingled shock and anger. Then she said, slowly, "I said stop it." Roxas continued, ignoring her. "Stop it – _now_!" Roxas gave the younger girl a weak smile; he had managed to scavenge all her things back from off the floor. She expressed her thanks and scurried off.

"What'd you do that for?" screeched the girl. By now, the whole of the gang were staring at Roxas. The girl with the sketchbook was avidly scribbling now - though still looking at Roxas, she had a questioning look on her face. The boy to her right, however, was looking at Roxas like he was stupid. The light haired boy, now definitely not in the world he had been before, was watching nervously, biting his lip and rubbing his hands together. The red headed boy, however, watched with a smirk and an odd glimmer in his eyes, obviously looking forward to whatever his friend was about to do.

Roxas just stared incredulously at them all. Who did they think they were? To pick on kids like that, it was just despicable. But then again, so were the most part of civilisation, thought Roxas with a cynical smile.

"You're going to regret that," the girl said. Roxas raised his eyebrow. She gasped and pointed a finger at him. She drew a breath, about to say something, when Roxas did what his instincts told him to do: flight. He ran away, but not without spitting in her direction, of course.

The rest of the day passed with little mention. He saw neither hide nor hair of the gang or of the interesting trio he had watched so eagerly at lunchtime. At home, he was about to clean the kitchen, when he thought... No. And ordered in again, deciding he wasn't all that too hungry.

He slept less than he had the previous, that night.

- - -

_Beep_

_Beep_

_Beep._

"_Tiny. It's Kairi again. I'm gonna say this straight out. I'm worried about you. Your last school report wasn't too good, we all know that – we also know it could have been better. Mom's really upset, we know that too. She thinks you get up to all sorts, Dad thinks you get up to all sorts, hell, even _I_ think you get up to all sorts. And don't give me all that shit about siblingly trust and all, because I have given you plenty of it in my time and a lot of the time, I don't think you earned it. Please just... just take this into account, OK? Anyway, on a brighter note, Sora has finally learnt his lesson about how he should leave it to me and Riku to cook. How he looked after his family, I don't know. I think they're probably better off without him! Oh my, they are the best of friends you could have. Not like your scary acquaintances. Though, Demyx is rather nice – I like him. Do you know, the other day, they just decided that they would take me out to a restaurant – just like that. Well, of course, it all turned out into disaster in the end but the thought was nice and I like occasions where I get to where a nice dress and see those two in a tux each. Haha, they were cute. Anyway, love you. Please, please, please call back and promise me you're being better. See you in the holidays maybe."_

_Beep._

- - -

**an:** GOOD GOD. what am i doing? updating so early? 'cause i love this story too much an' i wannit to be UPDATED once i finish a chapter. hope you like it, lovelies. i did. so, an intro to axel and his gang. also, now you know fo' shizzle who the mysterious person on the phone was. (not that it wasn't obvious anyway...) i think that freshman is me. D:


	3. I Fear No Evil

**disclaimer:** i own nada**  
pairing/s: **akuroku, risokai**  
warning/s:** gasp! a drunk kairi?!

**MISTAKE**

**- PART ONE -  
Occasion and Outrage**

Chapter Three

- _I Fear No Evil_

"Another day, another struggle in the seemingly endless abyss that is life..."

Roxas was barely paying attention to the headteacher. His speech was going on a bit and many of the teachers around the edge of the room were getting a bit haughty and looking at their watches more than they had been ten minutes ago. Roxas' stomach grumbled angrily. His face remained indifferent; he wasn't really surprised that he was hungry.

He hadn't eaten for a few days now, just the occasional piece of bread or pop tart. Things that didn't take long to make or mean he'd have to work too hard to get it. He was rather fed up of bothering to be honest, he'd just rather sit in a big chair all day and watch the world go by. But actually, he sat in a slightly uncomfortable chair, piled with cushions, watching the computer screen load for the best part of the day/evening.

Selphie was getting really excitable that morning because her new social worker would be coming in a couple of days. Roxas, to be quite honest, wasn't. It turned out that the new carer would be a woman called Aerith – and she sounded awful. She had too many credentials and certificates. She must be really old or middle-aged. Yes, middle-aged, with a pinched nose, hair tied back too tightly into a bun, a haughty demeanour and... high heels. Navy blue clacky, clicky high heels. Roxas hated her already.

He sighed and rested his cheek against his palm. They had to sit on the floor in this stingy school – on the floor. He could practically feel the blood leaving his leg. He'd probably get gangrene and have to have it amputated. But he supposed if that did happen, it would be rather more interesting for the students than whatever the head was rambling on about.

What was the man rambling on about?

"-detention! The Sinner's Box is the fabulous new creative punishment from the governors. So, if you're feeling down and really need to talk to someone, go to the Sinner's Box and have someone listen to your problems. It's anonymous and no one will ever be able to tell who you really are – unless you have a very noticeable voice of course." At this point, the well beloved teacher guffawed loudly, causing the microphone to squeak in a high-pitched (probably only just within the range of an average human's hearing capability) and deafening way.

And thus, the assembly was unable to go any further as the front half of the room had become partially deaf.

As he was leaving the hall, Roxas thought about the Sinner's Box. It sounded like a really stupid idea. Getting bullies to listen to their victims talk about their problems, basically. How idiotic. He supposed that it probably actually wouldn't have many bullies in there, mainly kids who'd nicked whiteboard marker pens or had been chewing gum in class. But Roxas did wonder what sort of people would actually talk to the Sinner's Box.

He silently thought to himself: Maybe me?

Then quickly batted that idea away with a mental tennis racquet.

-

Roxas spent most of the morning silently debating whether he should go to the Sinner's Box. It would go something like:

I think I really need to go, I need to get rid of my worries._  
Pfft, stop being a baby._  
But I think I'd feel a lot better about things if I went._  
Shut up._  
I mean, sometimes I wish I could think about just me and not have to think about everything else._  
You're such a girl!_

Etcetera, etcetera.

To be honest, he reasoned with himself, there was half of him which spoke sense and the other half just insulted himself. No wonder he had trouble eating, let alone living.

And yet, there he was, living – but not eating. So, at lunch he just meandered around the corridors, looking at the posters on lockers and noticeboards (apparently the Kilika Beasts were assholes and Vive la Besaid Aurochs), finding out the numbers of the doors (they didn't even go in order! -10, 97, 42...) and finding a good place he could hang around by himself at (damnit, did this school have **no** niches?). As he was cruising through the many hallways, he stopped at a door. The door was white, with a piece of paper stuck onto it with sellotape.

It rather reminded him of a wet paint sign, except that it didn't say 'WET PAINT' in messy, slightly mismatched letters. It said 'SINNER'S BOX' in messy, slightly mismatched letters.

Roxas' breath caught short. Should he go in? Should he throw all his problems at a kid sitting on the wrong side of a screen from him? Did he even dare face up to his problems?

He tentatively took a step forward, his hand still readying itself as it came out of the confines of his pocket. Should he do it? Should he not? He made his decision and brought his hand up. It touched the door handle and he turned it.

"Excuse me," said a voice. It was the girl from yesterday, the one whose bag had been spilt of its contents. "Excuse me, but are you Rucksack?" she asked.

Roxas dropped his hand, pulling the door to as he did so. No Sinner's Box for him today.

"I'm Roxas," he stated.

"Yes, well, um- sorry. But, um... Roxas, I was told to tell you that Axel and his gang will be waiting outside the Usual Spot at seven tonight."

Roxas delicately raised an eyebrow, he felt a bit cold-hearted being so mean to her when he could tell she was practically peeing herself. Axel and his gang _must_ be scary! Or... was it just him? "And why does this concern me?" he asked her.

"Well, because they'll be waiting for... you."

"Ah," he said, more to appease herself rather than him – he could've said nothing but that probably would have worried the poor soul.

"Um, I know you're new – d-do you know where the Usual Spot is 'cause I could show you around and..." she trailed off, probably because of Roxas' face, though her previous intentions were that she was obviously trying to make up for this information she had just given him – and possibly for calling him Rucksack too.

"No," he replied, and walked away down the corridor.

-

Whilst Roxas was doing his Biology homework, he remembered that the Usual Spot was one of the places he saw on his way into the city. It was just down the road from him. He looked at the clock.

It read: 21:42.

"Pity."

-

The next day, Roxas avoided assembly by claiming to go to the bathroom and conveniently missing the time by which the doors of the hall close. He decided that he would do this every day from that day onwards.

His first period was English so, deciding not to be overcome by the mass of people leaving the hall, he set off early for room 67, right next to room 8.

The bell rang just as he had grabbed his bag so he hurried towards the stairs. He raced up them all, two at a time. But as he got to the top step, he crashed into something soft and human-shaped.

"Oof," said the soft, human-shaped thing.

Roxas looked at it. It turned out to be a girl, about Roxas' age with brown hair in plaits, and bright green eyes, going the same way as him – just not is as big a hurry. He quickly apologised and tried to get past her, but she stopped him.

"You're the new kid, right?" she said, staring at him with those bright, green eyes.

Roxas paused and turned slightly to look at her. "Yes..." He wondered if she was one of the bullies' accomplices or something.

"What's your name again? I mean, people keep talking about you – but they never say your name. It's a bit mean really," she commented.

Roxas turned round fully. She wasn't one of the bullies. "Roxas," he said. "Yours?"

Olette caught up with him. "Me? I'm Olette." They started to walk towards room 67 together.

"So, how are you fitting in?" she asked him, staring at him with those piercing green eyes. He couldn't imagine how hard it would be to lie to her.

But he did so anyway. "Uh... great, really great."

She 'hmm'd and they carried on walking, slowly, much slower than Roxas had been going before. But even at their slow pace, he still managed to crash into a soft, human-shaped thing again.

"Roxas!" it said. "You are Roxas, right?" Roxas nodded, taking a sideways glance at Olette who had stopped and was waiting for Roxas. "Axel told me to tell you that you're on his list." The last three words of the freshman's statement were said in a particularly dark voice. Roxas was dumbfounded. _On his list_? What the hell did that mean anyway?

"Well, uh... thanks," he said. "I'll keep that in mind."

The freshman bit his lip and ran away.

"Yep, you're fitting in fantastically," said Olette.

"Now, I don't know you very well, but I can tell that sarcasm doesn't suit you," commented Roxas dryly.

"No, probably not," laughed Olette, stopping at room 67. "You in my English?" she asked when Roxas stopped too.

"Yeah."

"C'mon then; you can sit next to me. It's always hard to find a place when you're new."

Roxas followed her into the classroom. It was spacious and filled with desks, chairs and a corner where there were a few tiny bookshelves, packed with books, and surrounded with comfy looking pouffes. The smell reminded him of old paper and coffee. He quite liked it in there.

Other than himself and Olette, the room was empty which he also liked.

Olette gestured for him to go over and sit with her. He plonked down on the seat next to her own. He noticed that she already had her books and pencil case out. Shaking his head disbelievingly he did so too.

Olette was staring ahead of her, inadvertently biting her thumb. She suddenly put her hand down onto the desk and said, "Be careful, Roxas."

Roxas was surprised and jumped a little. "What?"

"Be careful," she repeated. "That gang is big trouble. If you're on their list, it's never a good thing. I mean, sure, you may think "I can put up with being hit every now and then" but it's not just that." Roxas stared at her, she was still looking straight ahead, as though she didn't even know he was there. "They don't just use brawn," she looked straight at him now; those green eyes penetrating his own again. "They have other ways of hurting people," he looked at her eyes again, and saw something in them flash, "believe me. Those quiet two, Zexion and Naminé – be very careful with them, be too careful. Don't tread on important toes, OK? Just be safe."

Roxas looked back at his books and suddenly felt, inexplicably, guilty for not caring about the bullies.

He didn't eat again that night.

- - -

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

"_Tinnyyyyyy! –_ Hic – _it's meeee. You're lovely, loving sister who – _Hic_ – has decided that she – hahahahaa! - IIII don't care if you get in loads of trouble 'cause we still love our ickle baby broth- Soraaa. Mmmhehehe – _Hic_ – I'm on the phooone. I promised I'd ring my brothe- mmphh. M, Sora.. – _Hic –_ sorry, Tiny... I gotta- mmph... Sora! -I gotta go!"_

- - -

**an:** ...yes. review :D


	4. Let Us Now Praise Famous Men

**disclaimer:** i own nothing 'cept the plot :3**  
pairing/s: **akuroku, risokai**  
warning/s:** 'cause we all love cloverrr...

**MISTAKE**

**- PART ONE -  
Occasion and Outrage**

Chapter Four

- _Let Us Now Praise Famous Men_

Roxas woke up with a familiar sense of foreboding. Whether it was because he had school that day or because he had left the oven on the night before though, he couldn't remember.

Upon entering the kitchen, he realised it was both.

He – quickly, and with a strong sense of panic – turned the oven off, made a bowl of milky breakfast, looked at said breakfast, walked away from said breakfast to get his bag and walked out the door. He didn't even bother locking it behind him, his reasoning being that if you wanted to steal something from a house so mangy as his, you'd have to at least be the sort of person who was so worse for wear you used your curtains as your clothes.

It took Roxas a quick look at the shattered glass and boarded up windows around him to streak back to his door before any curtain-clad have-nots could slime through the door and steal his curtains.

Once he had left sight of the slightly rotting street he lived on, he felt a lot better. Twilight Town was a pretty place, just... not his part of Twilight Town. Too bad his school was in his part of Twilight Town. It only went to show that being emo really _doesn't_ help you earn good graces with the jolly feller up there.

Selphie had been especially excited the night before because Aerith the Crap was coming to see her that night. Roxas had already given her an incredibly witty nickname and intended to use it from then on. Other possibilities he'd been playing with were Crappy Aerith and... well, that was just about it. But they made him feel better about the whole thing anyway.

He looked up momentarily and saw the great looming monster that was his school. He groaned internally and wondered if it was too late to run back home and turn the oven back on. Maybe if his house burnt down he'd be able to move. But then again, if his family burnt down, he'd probably be put in jail.

Looking up again, Roxas noticed that one of the gang's bullies was standing there, biting his knuckles and on tiptoes, trying to look over other student's heads. It was the blondish one; the one Roxas thought didn't seem to suit the label 'BULLY'. Roxas snorted and carried on. But he was quickly pulled roughly towards someone.

Roxas rolled his eyes and looked up at the guy.

"You!" he said. Roxas raised an eyebrow. "You – you're in trouble. I'm meant to be here to catch you and then take you to them." Roxas almost laughed. But he'd forgotten how to so he tried to get away and follow the other students milling into school. "No, don't go. Look, take my advice, please. Those guys, Axel and Larxene and that lot, they're really angry about it. Like... I donno, like they've got a serious case of PMS over you." That's reassuring, thought Roxas as he tried to escape again.

"No. Don't go. _Listen_. Find some people, make peace with them, be friends, live, laugh, love, etcetera, etcetera. They'll defend you. Please do it. I hate it when they zone in on someone; it's just messy and irritating and... urk. Just, do it, all right?"

Roxas snorted and walked on. This time the boy didn't pull him back again. So, there was Axel, Larxene, Zexion, Naminé and the nervous boy.

"'Scuse me," he said to a random passer-by. "What's his name?" he asked, pointing at the blond boy who didn't look as anxious anymore but was still pretending to look for Roxas through the mass of crowds.

"Oh," said the kid who Roxas vaguely remembered as being in his Math class. "That's Demyx. He's pretty cool – he's Ollie's, my friend, brother. ...Oops. Don't tell anyone I told you that." He smiled and ran onwards.

Ollie... Olette. That made Roxas remember what Demyx had said about friends. "Pfft," he said to himself, causing a few heads to turn in his direction. He glared at them all and soon the heads turned back around.

Did Roxas need friends though? He debated with himself all the way to French. On the way, he saw Sinner's Box and was sorely tempted. But he quickly bashed the idea aside. It was like Sinner's Box denial.

You liiiike Sinner's Box._  
No I don't, shut up!_  
But you liiiiike the way it looks._  
I said shut up!_  
You looove Sinner's Box._  
Nooooooooooooo!_

French passed by like most subjects, Roxas was uninterested in anything, anybody or the words. Their teacher, obviously trying to get 'down wi' da kidz' told them about how 'tu es froid' meant 'you are frigid' and Roxas remarked to himself about how much use he'd get out of _that_ phrase, thank you very much Madame You've-Got-A-Degree-In-The-Subject-And-This-Is-All-You-Can-Teach-Us.

On the way back down to get to the Sports Hall for Gym, the Sinner's Box attempted to entice him again.

You waaant t-_  
Go away._

"Well, Roxas," the man said. "Well, well, well. New, huh?" he said. "I think," he waggled a finger in Roxas' face, "I think this is just some **feeble** excuse to get out of track."

"...No, sir, I really am new."

"In that case go find some spare kit and follow the rest of your teammates onto the field."

"But, sir, we've already discussed about how there is no new kit."

The teacher glared at Roxas and his quick-witted comments. "Think you're funny, boy? Go and sit with fattie on the benches. He's sprained his ankle. He says the doctor told him it will never heal. So sad, no wonder the poor lad is so fat."

Roxas looked over and saw the boy he had asked about Demyx to that very morning.

"Oh well, Rox-is, you go and sit over there with him or it'll be forty laps tomorrow."

Roxas slided through the mud towards the benches.

There was silence while the two of them watched the boys on the field run, fall over, pick themselves up again and get shouted at for a few minutes before the boy suddenly said, "Want some burger?" Roxas turned to him and, sure enough, he was holding out a cheeseburger, dripping with grease, lettuce and some sort of salsa.

"Uh... no thanks," he replied.

"Oh well, all the more for me, I s'pose," and with that, he engulfed the burger with half his digestive system. Roxas shuddered slightly. The boy wiped his now greasy hands on the bench and his trousers. "Pence," he said, holding his hand out.

"...Isn't that a currency?" asked Roxas, wondering why the boy had just told him to 'pence'.

"No..." said the boy thoughtfully, looking to the sky. "The currency is actually the pound sterling. But, pence is part of it. It's also my name."

"Oh!" said Roxas, realising how stupid he'd been. "Roxas," he shook Pence's hand.

"Well, isn't that a bag?"

"No," said Roxas, vehemently. Pence pursed his lips together and looked back at the field.

Then they both burst into laughter at the whole situation.

Well, they would've, had it been that Roxas wasn't so emo and Pence wasn't so self-conscious, and the whole thing was rather awkward.

-

Back in his curtain-less home (they'd still managed to get in, the thieving buggers) Roxas searched through the cupboards for something to eat. The only edible thing he could salvage was a bag of dry pasta. Pausing, he ripped the packet open and then, just as he was about to tip it in, the doorbell rang. Roxas took this as a sign that he should just order in.

Aerith the Crap (a.k.a. Crappy Aerith) could wait a little while before he opened the door she was standing behind. She was probably going to blame everything on Roxas. In his mind's eye, the walk to Selphie's room would be something like:

"_Uck, look at this doorframe, Roxas, it's absolutely disgusting, it is obviously your fault because you have been doing homework instead of painting doors. GASP! Roxas, it is completely your fault that you're phone line is being gnawed on by rats right now because you spent too much time looking after your family. And, oh, Roxas, how could you let Cid and Selphie (the poor dears, so sweet they can't even defend for themselves, you evil, evil child) live in a house like this. I bet you made sure that the council screwed up. And, why don't you have any curtains? It's all your..."_

Roxas hated her.

So wasn't it a surprise when he opened the door and suddenly thought, I love her!

- - -

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

"_Urgh. I feel absolutely _awful_! This is what mom warned me about, isn't it? Not to get drunk and do something stupid – I can't even remember half of last night. All I remember is me and Sora really got i- uh... So, you got a detention, huh?Who cares? You've had loads of detentions befo- oh yeah, you said something about "creative fucking punishment", didn't you? Remind your dear old sister, won't you? She's turning senile in her old age – and sporting a massive migraine."_

- - -

**an:** roxas loves crappy aerith?! PLOT TWIST AHOY. or nawt. it wasn't much of a plot twist, wuzzit. don't worry. her plot twist'll come later. everyone has a plot twist in this. it's so clichéit makes me SICK. actually it doesn't. i really love this story. it makes me HAPPY-SICK. please review or i'll be SAD-SICK. D:


	5. For Whom the Bell Tolls

**MISTAKE****  
- PART ONE -  
Occasion and Outrage**  
Chapter Five

_- For Whom the Bell Tolls_

Roxas walked to school with a spring in his step the next day. By the time he got there, he was practically skipping (and also had a massive stitch). But that didn't faze him. He could possibly be the happiest emo there ever was. So, Roxas the greatest Oxymoron bounded through the gates with a grin on his face. Not even the sight of Demyx (the second greatest Oxymoron if there ever was one) giving him a conspiratorial glance, before hopping up a few more times and then announcing that: "I do believe I have searched the lot of them!" and scampering off, or a notice board with a reminder about the Sinner's Box stickered onto it could suffocate the feeling bursting forth from Roxas (through his fetching two-step across school campus).

He felt on top of the world. He even talked to Olette during English. He said, "Olette, uh... why did Caliban hate Prospero?" and Olette tsked and said, "Read the _book_, Roxas. It tells you all you need to know."

(But she gave him the answer anyway.)

At the end of the lesson, Roxas' arm was aching – he had never put his hand up so much in lesson. But it felt brilliant all the same. He wondered if maybe there was something to being a teacher's pet or a nerd. Debating over whether being emo or nerdy would be more attractive to Aerith, Roxas was drifting away from reality and into his own little "zone" where he had a fat-ass, shining, pure gold house, a gleaming kitchen – full of good food and not a single packet of pasta in sight (probably shoved at the back of one the many cupboards); he also had no irritating sister, no probably-comatose father, no bossy brother and no crappy council to mess things up.

The best thing about his "zone" though was the only other person in it. And that person was Aerith the Crap (a.k.a. Crappy Aerith) – or, as he liked to call her now, Aerith the Radiant, Pretty Aerith, I Love Aerith and other such sickening names. In his "zone", Aerith and he spent hours together (within the space of the two minutes he spent in his "zone"), doing such fun things like watching football on the TV, and eating butter popcorn and talking about the latest playstation game.

They would sit in the garden, on the swinging loveseat, holding hands and reminiscing on how they met and other such deligh-

"Roxas." His "zone" vanished and was replaced by vibrant green eyes. "Take my number, OK?" She squeezed a piece of crumpled, but dazzlingly white, paper into his hand. "Ring me if you still don't get the essay. See you later, Roxas."

Olette waved goodbye and Roxas realised that everyone else had packed away and were getting ready to leave for next lesson. Olette had somehow managed to slip out of the lesson quicker than anyone else – a sort of power she seemed to have when it came to school. Roxas shook his head of ridiculous fantasies and unceremoniously threw his books and pencil case into the bag over his shoulder.

He had suddenly realised that he was a high school kid – too young, too immature, too... everything for a girl- no, not a girl; a _woman_, a _lady_ like Aerith. He wasn't any good at sports, he was mediocre at subjects and he'd never won any awards for his looks. His good mood struck the low peak for the day.

He traversed morosely around school, from lesson to lesson, subject to subject, never really paying much attention to the teacher pointing and gesturing wildly, about something that was obviously not worth Roxas's time, at the front of the class. By lunchtime, he was feeling a little better than he had done at the end of English, but he still didn't feel up to any food. He spent the first ten minutes wandering the school again, but when he realised he seemed to constantly be circling in towards the same third floor, same fourth room along, same stupid sign...

His self-control was deteriorating at considerable speed. Knowing that he'd never be loved by pretty, kind (to Selphie at least; she was quite mean to Roxas) and clever Aerith, knowing that he'd probably be on the benefits list for the rest of his life and the fact that he wasn't eating, he wasn't sleeping, he wasn't acting... human; knowing all that, he couldn't help himself.

He touched the door handle, tentatively, as though it would burn him. Thankfully it didn't, but you can never be sure.

He twisted it round and opened the door.

The Sinner's Box was tiny, much smaller than Roxas had expected. It looked more like a janitor's closet. He sniffed in disapproval. Choking, he noted that it smelt like a janitor's closet. He suddenly realised why it looked so small; there was a blank screen at the back of the room, behind which must have been Roxas' listener. Roxas locked the door, sat on the spindly, plastic chair by the screen, cleared his throat and began.

To begin with, he was at a loss at what to say.

"Uh... hi."

He waited for a reply, before remembering that the person on the other side wasn't allowed/was unable to talk (the headteacher did seem to be fond of duct tape).

"Oh, right, yeah, sorry. Well... yes. Erm... well, I guess... I don't really know why I'm in here. I mean, I could just say that my friends dared me or something stupid like that but what difference would it make? You have no idea who I am anyway. I don't even have friends. Isn't that funny? Someone once told me I need to get friends. I don't know if that's true. Do you? I wonder, do you think I need friends to fit in in this school?"

And after that, it all came pouring out. He told the mystery person about his dad, about his sister, meeting Aerith, not eating, not sleeping, friends, Olette, Pence, Sinner's Box denial and his house. It may have seemed crazy to him at first, but knowing that someone was behind that screen, taking in everything he said reassured him. It reassured him a lot and he knew that when he walked out of the box (he had decided it can't have been the janitor's old closet as it was far too small to be a closet anyway – box suited it so much better) he would walk out, holding something else with him. He'd have a sort of protection, better even than the protection of pretending to be indifferent about the world carried. He'd have the protection of knowing that the thoughts that spilled over the top of his mind could be cleared away so easily.

All he had to do was talk.

To Sinner's Box.

- - -

The rest of the day passed by with no real mention – just a lift in Roxas' spirits. And when he got home, he marched straight into the kitchen, boiled a kettle, took out a pan, turned on the hob and ventured into the dark and mysterious space that was his cupboard. Reaching out so far so as to only touch the pasta packet (and nothing else – God only knew what could be lurking behind it) and then ripping it open, he poured it into the the pan, then poured in the boiled water, then placed it on the hob.

He added salt and herbs and various spices. (Paprika, Jamaican spices, nutmeg – he counted them all.)

After three minutes he took it off and sieved the pasta over the sink. He took out three bowls and poured the past into them. He hadn't quite managed to get rid of all the water from the pasta so they were a bit sloppy but when Roxas bit into one of the twirly pieces he found it to be rather al dente and stiff – and the spices just made it taste very strange.

It was wonderful all the same.

- - -

At the weekend, Roxas talked to TallGirl57 for hours on end, about stupid stuff, like brothers and playstations that don't work. He wondered whether he should phone Olette – but then decided against it; he didn't really want to bother her, and besides, he couldn't find his phone.

Over the next week, Roxas' right arm grew a few millimetres with extra use, not having even the smallest smile on his face was abnormal and Olette had a companion she could actually chat to in English – she even stayed behind once so they could converse about their recent project: Crimewatch, Anthology style.

Roxas still didn't speak to the bullies, despite several encounters where Roxas saved a Sophomore from Axel's wrath (Axel got sent to the head), he threw a Junior out of the path of Axel's special tripping-up foot (Axel got sent to the head), he warned a Freshman about the dangers that lay ahead where Axel and his gang had set up a hilarious joke whereby the next person to walk past them would have ink thrown at their heads (Axel got sent to the head) and various other heroic deeds (where Axel got sent to the head).

- - -

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

"_Uh.... Hey, Tiny. Sorry I didn't catch you earlier, I just went out for some M&Ms and milk; Sora insists that it makes for good breakfast. Anyway, I can tell you're distressed about this. To be honest, I think anybody would be, so don't worry your pretty little socks about it. I mean a) I always knew it would only be a matter of time before you came out and b) it's not big deal anyway. But I don't think you should go round beating innocents up over it. Just tell the head that you want to do this Sinner's Square – or whatever – every day because you've fallen for someone's voice. Are you sure you don't know who it is? I'm sure you do. My advice would be to listen out for the voice and, once you've found him, declare your undying love. Wow, now I feel like an Agony Aunt. Oh, and speaking of aunts and uncles and things which our parents would disapprove of – I'm pregnant. Oops. Wow, saying it makes it feel a whole lot real – like I can feel it actually inside me, growing from a little bean into a fat, pink blob, like you were. I can't really feel it though. Wish I could. I'm rambling. Just so you know, you're the first person to know 'part from me and ClearBlue__ of course... So yeah, I'm pregnant but don't tell mom or dad 'cause they'll force me to abort or somethi- Sora? You heard me? Oh God... h-how much did you... I swear I was going to... Let's talk, So-So... Bye, Ax."_

- - -

**an:** goodness, if only my mother would shut up. "are you turning off now?" "is it done?" "is that you shutting down?" please leave me alone, mum, i wish to write and then turn my computer off in peace. LISTEN TO DIVINE COMEDY. that is a subtle message, 'K? :3 it actually really helps me write. lalala. so, review and tell me how much you wish i'd stop being so self-centred and running off to do such silly things as coursework and dwama, etc, etc. oh feck. drama coursework. ah well. my teacher's pretty laid back about homework. _fingers crossed, of course S_ so, who's off to watch inkheart. i only read it 'cause i have been meaning to since i was 10 and brendan frasier was in the movie.


End file.
